


Eleven Christmas Mornings

by Lunarium



Series: SSSS: Saga of the Mages (aka Mageverse) [10]
Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/F, Fluff, One brief instance of violence (mention only), Romance, Some Humor, Through the Years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 20:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8937787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: Eleven notable Christmas mornings that Sigrun and Tuuri shared together.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Femslash Revolution's Twelve Days of Femslash fest, using the "11 Christmas mornings" from the "Holidays and Happy Endings" song as my prompt. I gave the title of the fic the same as the prompt, but I use Jul throughout the fic, and one mention of "Hyvää joulua" when they are speaking in Finnish. 
> 
> This was a nice overview of Sigrun and Tuuri's life through the years post-expedition.

**Year 91**

 

The journey took longer than expected. The snow storm, far too early and sudden, had been responsible for the unexpected delays. Tuuri had not meant to arrive to Dalsnes during such a sacred morning. She hoped it would not make too much of a grand entrance in the wide viking halls that Sigrun boosted about continuously. The thought of all those eyes on her nearly caused her to faint. 

The chauffeur, who had long abandoned his carriage in frustration from the increasing snow, had extended out a hand to her. Side by side they had braved the howling storm all night. 

“Captain! Do please return inside or you may catch pneumonia!” 

“All fiends big and small scatter at the sight of me, Kál!” 

Tuuri’s heart leapt, instantly warming at the sound of the woman’s voice over the roar of the harsh winds. She was soon collected into the arms of a figure clad in the blue uniform of the Norwegian military. Tuuri nuzzled into the body heat, taking in the full warmth of her lover before a kiss claimed her lips. A snowflake drifting onto their joined lips instantly melted by their shared heat. 

When Sigrun parted, she took in Tuuri’s shivering form. 

“You’ve come to me!” she said happily and brightly as she ruffled Tuuri’s short hair. “Let’s get you inside and warm, ducky. The chefs got a whole breakfast fit for an army ready for you in case you reached us this morning, and my parents can’t wait to meet you! Everyone’s waiting!”

 _So much for a quiet reception_ , Tuuri thought nervously as Sigrun led her the rest of the way with Kál following close behind.

~ ❄︎ ~ 

**Year 94**

 

Tuuri awoke early that morning, bundled up and warm. She thought back to the first Jul morning in Dalsnes and smiled. Three years ago she sat with the Generals and was toasted to by the colorful and brash and noble armada of vikings of Dalsnes. Her face had been as red as she had anticipated it would be, but it had all been worth it. Sigrun kissed her (privately, thank the gods, when they finally had a moment to themselves.) The years since had been an adventure to tell, but that would be for another day. 

Just three days ago saw the wedding between her and the now Major Sigrun Eide. 

The singing from the young Dalsnes children during their first dance as wives still carried on, echoing in her mind as her eyes gazed towards the frosted windows, blessed by the early rising sun. 

With a smile that carried no weight of the world, Tuuri brought Sigrun’s hand to her lips and kissed her. Sigrun was asleep, still worn out after the adventures of last night (the memory of which made Tuuri blush just thinking about it), but she stirred at the touch of Tuuri against her hand. 

“Time for breakfast,” she purred, one eye open, and the way her lips perked into a sly smirk made Tuuri blush all over again.

~ ❄︎ ~ 

**Year 99**

 

“Look outside!” Sigrun gushed excitedly, motioning to the night sky as the Northern Lights flew past in magnificent iridescent waves that made Tuuri’s eyes water with reverence and awe. 

“It’s Jul, little Aina, and those are the Northern Lights,” Tuuri said softly, cuddling the infant in her arms. Another December marked by another moment of joy. Her cousin Lalli and his fiancé Reynir had welcomed their daughter Aina into the world on the twelfth of this month. Sigrun and Tuuri had traveled to Iceland to help Fura, who had offered to carry the baby to term for the couple, as well as the two young men who were juggling between the farm, the newborn, and wedding preparations over the next several months. 

Tuuri was glad she had come. The child was absolutely adorable, and she was all too glad to relieve poor Lalli any chance she got from the screaming newborn. Reynir could only take care of her for so long while also tending to farm business. And, though Tuuri hadn’t planned on having any children of her own with Sigrun, she was certain the two men must miss the private moments together. 

“She’s getting sleepy!” Sigrun whispered in Tuuri’s ear as she rested her head in Tuuri’s shoulder. She wrapped her arms around Tuuri. “Think the boys will get some sleep now? And us?” 

“We can hope,” Tuuri said, although in truth she adored Aina too much. She didn’t mind spending time with her. She gave the infant the softest of kisses, avoiding waking her as best as she could. 

“You really like her…hey, while she’s all quiet like that, let’s kidnap her! Quick, while her fathers are sleeping! We’ll replace her spot in the cradle with a ragdoll—men will never notice!” 

_“Sigrun!”_

~ ❄︎ ~ 

**Year 101**

 

The column of Emil’s executive chair was the first thing Tuuri saw upon waking that morning. 

“How—?” 

The memories of night before poured back into her, and she gave an embarrassed squeak. Sigrun raised her head from the other side of the chair, grinning. 

“We were so drunk, ducky!” she said proudly. “It was a wild night! I’m sure there must be a camera somewhere documenting our celebrating the coming of Jul! Mirjam must have offered us the CEO’s office to get everything off our system, and—” 

Pushing herself on her hands, she examined the executive chair seat. “Emil may need to consider getting a new chair after he recognizes what we did to it!” 

Hands clasped her burning cheeks as Tuuri scanned the polished room in pure horror, spotting Sigrun’s bra hanging shamelessly over a stack of books and her own panties covered the golden statue in the middle of the room. Tuuri loudly wept and Sigrun continued roaring with laughter. 

“Oh, no! No no no no no—Eeeeeeeeeeeee!”

~ ❄︎ ~ 

**Year 103**

 

The Madsen family did not traditionally open their gifts until on Jul morning, as Sigrun and Tuuri had learned. But it was worth the extra hours waiting to see little Michelle’s face when it came time to open their present for her. 

With a cup of hot cocoa in each hand, they snuggled next to each other on one of the couches that morning, a blanket draped over their knees, and lazily watched with amusement as Michelle argued with her father Michael about why he was not getting that chemistry set for her. 

“I want to make things explode like Uncle Mikkel and Emil did!” she whined and whined, and her father grew bigger with power after every disappointment. The cycle was becoming rather endearing in a heartbreaking way. 

Mikkel had informed them that Michael forbade even him from buying her anything related to the sciences. “Just wants her to be with the farm animals,” he had explained with a shrug. His wife, Asløg had rolled her eyes. 

“She could study medicine and help the animals, as I have,” she had countered.

Their words came back as the ground was littered with toy ponies and soft plush cows and one miserable Michelle. 

Then came Sigrun and Tuuri’s present; they had requested theirs be the final one opened. Mikkel’s eyes strayed to them, but Tuuri had mastered to keep her face impassive as she huddled closer to Sigrun, sipping cocoa. She grinned behind her mug; Sigrun’s free arm came around her shoulders. 

An excited shriek followed the ripping of the wrapper, revealing the brand new kid’s chemistry set (with maximal potential explosions; Sigrun had personally picked that one.) 

“Chemistry set! Just what I wanted!” Michelle announced triumphantly, embracing her new present. “Thank you Aunt Siggy and Aunt Tuuri!” 

Sigrun raised her mug. “Cheers!” 

Mikkel smirked. Michael’s face fell.

~ ❄︎ ~ 

**Year 106**

 

“Wake up, Mothers!” Heiberg’s voice boomed out as the door of their bedroom swung open. “It is Jul morning, and I will be serving you breakfast in bed today!” 

Sigrun pushed herself by her elbows groggily, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “Since when?” 

“Since it’s your twelve year anniversary,” Heiberg reminded them. Just a few years younger than Tuuri, it was a bit awkward at times being called anything but her given name by him, but Tuuri graciously accepted the breakfast tray from him. At the very least she knew she wasn’t going to be accidentally poisoned. The food were always prepared by the expert chefs of Dalsnes, well trained to feed the community of vikings, skalds, and mages. 

“You’re having us celebrate by messing the bed with crumbs?” Sigrun yelled at him, though she was already wolfing down her eggs. 

Heiberg made a display of showing hurt. “See if I care next time you get injured out there, Mom!” 

“Yeah, whatever—get me my slippers and my knives, son!” 

“Get them yourself!” 

“What was that?” 

_Twelve years later and no regrets_ , Tuuri thought happily as she munched on her toast.

~ ❄︎ ~ 

**Year 115**

 

Jul mornings often meant a chance to laze around comfortably in one’s pajamas or the softest and warmest sweaters they owned. But this morning they both awoke early and began the hustle of getting dressed in elegant dresses. It wasn’t a type of morning Sigrun was used to, but it didn’t come without its perks. 

This year the holiday was going to be spent with all of their former crew mates, now their dearest friends. The Nordic Council had called them together to remember their famed expedition twenty-five years ago. A most delicious breakfast was promised, and the speeches, Sigrun was assured, weren’t to be too long that would make her scream and break chairs for want of something to do. 

Little Aina had grown to become a teenager with an expression as stoic as Lalli but with the same curiosity about exploring the world as Reynir. Michelle, ever defying her father, had since enrolled into a program, on a scholarship that Siv Västerström helped her to receive, to continue the study of the sciences. Both girls were present. Emil and Mirjam’s children were also all there: Gunnar, Sven, and Linnéa. Heiberg would be there too, being her son, the little twerp. 

All that happened in twenty-five years, the family of six ever expanding, but Tuuri looked as beautiful as always as she slipped into the elegant red dress. It hugged around her wide hips, and the top was cut low and was sleeveless so she wrapped herself in a fur shawl, shivering against it. Sigrun, dressed in a similar-styled dress in green, nuzzled her cheek against Tuuri’s. She studied their reflections in the mirror. 

“Let’s knock their socks off,” she said with a grin. 

“And not get _too_ drunk this time,” Tuuri added.

~ ❄︎ ~ 

**Year 124**

 

It did not suit Sigrun to look this defeated. She paced the hospital waiting room, eyes unfocused after having worn herself into exhaustion screaming at doctors for hours on end with Tuuri apologizing on her behalf. When Heiberg was finally wheeled out of the operating room, they were advised to remain and wait here. Just in case. 

Feeling helpless, Tuuri could only stare into her upturned hands on her lap and recall how the snake-like troll had burrowed into Heiberg through his arm and slithered under his skin, making its way towards his chest. Sigrun’s shrieks must have still been echoing among the mountains, shaking their very foundations with a mother’s grief. 

For all their bickering, it had always been in jest. Rumors flew around Dalsnes as to who the real father had been, or how calloused Sigrun must have been to bring a child into the world for the mere purpose of wanting to be the first among her friends to enter adulthood. But Tuuri disagreed. Sigrun was not being selfish, not when Heiberg was Sigrun’s own friend, a sibling more than a son. He was a valuable member of her regiment, and the loss of one would devastate the other. 

When they were at last brought inside, it was to find Heiberg motionless, but alive. Sleeping, resting, recovering—and alive. But Sigrun shook her head and looked away. 

“He’s a viking like you,” Tuuri reminded her. “Have some faith in him, please? He’ll walk out this with scars, nothing more.” 

It wasn’t right. Normally it was Sigrun who shielded Tuuri from any danger and raised her morale. 

_We all have our moments, I suppose_ , Tuuri thought in forlorn as she embraced Sigrun and led her towards the window. 

She pulled back the curtains to show the beautiful early dawn. “It’s Jul, Sigrun…” With all the chaos in the last couple days, they had completely forgotten. 

“And miracles happen on Jul,” came a strained groan behind them. 

They turned to find Heiberg gingerly helping himself into a more upright position. Save for the bandages around his chest, he appeared perfectly fine. He smiled at them. 

“Son!” Immediately Sigrun tried to compose herself, but Tuuri knew she must have been silently thank her gods for keeping her son alive. “How are you—”

Heiberg chuckled. “Am I glad I got that off my chest!” 

Sigrun froze for a split second and then—“YOU LITTLE JERK!” And soon Heiberg was attacked with hugs and play-punches and swear words flinging off the walls. 

Tuuri sighed happily. The family was back to normal.

~ ❄︎ ~ 

**Year 131**

 

Tuuri would not be celebrating with Sigrun this Jul. Her wife was out on an expedition into the deeper regions of Europe along with Heiberg and others from her regiment. Tuuri herself remained behind in this cottage, working behind a radio station so she may speak with the crew in the safety of the Known World. She had wanted to come, as she had joined Sigrun many times before, but with her advancing age, even Sigrun worried for her. 

She sat at her work desk wearing a warm sweater and robe, with hot morning tea beside her, and still there was a chill in the air. Now she understood how her brother Onni had felt. Sighing, Tuuri chastised herself mentally; this year, Jul was just another day, and there was no use delaying her work any longer. Her work began early before the dawn, and today was no different. 

It was five in the morning when the sound of singing in the distance reached her ears. Raising her head, she focused on the song, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The cabin was far from the nearest city, and any chance of people traveling here was slim. 

As the song drew nearer, she recognized the Norwegian carols, the individual voices—and the memories each invoked. 

“How?” she cried out, jolting out of her chair and making for the window. “Sigrun, you—!” 

They were not to be back for another few months, but there they were: Sigrun, Heiberg, and the rest of the crew. Throwing the door wide open, Tuuri ran out and swallowed Sigrun into a tight embrace. 

“Can’t leave you all alone in there on Jul morning,” Sigrun said happily as she hugged Tuuri back, “not if I can help it!”

~ ❄︎ ~ 

**Year 140**

 

“ _Hyvää joulua!_ ” The greeting blurted out excitedly, mingled with the radio static. The thud must have been Sigrun throwing herself on the chair right beside the radio microphone. How she managed to keep this energy at her age, not to mention traveling this far a distance, Tuuri had no idea. 

But she smiled at how her wife’s accent curled around Tuuri’s native language. 

“ _God Jul!_ ” Tuuri greeted back. This time, they would be spending Jul in different parts of the world, able to talk only by means of radio. Yet no matter how warm and upbeat Sigrun’s voice was on the radio, it could not replace having her in her arms. It was mid-morning for Tuuri, but the sun must have already set for Sigrun. The thought that they were looking at completely different skies at that same moment made Tuuri’s head spin; Sigrun was truly so far away, and even just hearing her voice, knowing she was there but not so, brought upon an ache and longing to stretch her arms across the globe and wrap them around her beloved Sigrun. 

“How is China? Have you met up with the Wu that visited Reynir and Lalli in their dreams?”

“Yes, YES! I have so much to tell you about Li Zhaohui and the others! And more! Listen!” 

The chair screeched against the floor, and shuffling of feet followed, along with a few other confusing sounds that Tuuri could not discern. Sigrun must have found a way to disconnect the radio microphone from its holder—was it wireless?—so she leaned forward with her chin in her hands wondering what her wife was up to many miles away. A quiet conversation together would have been enough. 

And then she heard it. And recognized the words, having spent the last few years studying the beautiful language of Mandarin. 

“Do you hear that?” Sigrun said excitedly. “Dōngzhì Festival. The winter solstice. It happened a few nights ago. I took a recording of it so you can listen to it today. If only you were here! They served us special dumpling soup called Tangyuan. What you’re hearing are the prayers from the mages there while people went around praying to their ancestors. 

“I thought you might like it.” 

In all the time Sigrun spoke, Tuuri was holding back her tears. “Yes. Yes, I love it, Sigrun.”

~ ❄︎ ~ 

**Year 145**

 

“I always wanted to see what Jul would be like in Finland,” Sigrun said happily. “And I’m not disappointed!” 

“It took you long enough,” Tuuri teased. They walked down the street and past buildings Tuuri only vaguely recalled, as Keuruu had changed so much from the time she had left it to live with Sigrun. Sigrun, hair as white as snow, now walked with a cane. Her other arm had been amputated below the elbow, but she still walked with all the pride and confidence as the first day Tuuri had seen her. 

Heiberg walked behind them, studying the scenery with awe as he snapped a few photos with his camera. They would be visiting Onni soon as well as all the descendants of the mages old Ensi Taika Hotakainen and Láilá Dunfjeld had once led in Saimaa, the Old Crowd, but for now they were out here to enjoy the scenery. It was quiet and they were alone on the road, with nothing but the tranquil snow and each other. 

Tuuri snuggled against Sigrun, who immediately brought her free arm around her. 

“Always happy to share these mornings with you, ducky,” Sigrun said beside Tuuri’s ear softly. 

Tuuri smiled. “Me too.” 

Sunlight sparkled on the pure untrodden snow as they continued on their way. 

Somewhere in the distance a bird sang merrily.


End file.
